


Fuzzy

by RonniRotten



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Body Horror, Character Death, F/F, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonniRotten/pseuds/RonniRotten
Summary: It would seem that there are only two causes for this transformation: a blessing or a curse. There are no magical mishaps. But when Chiara Ricci-Vargas finds her soulmate, a cursed soul named Amelia Jones, her entire universe explodes with shades of gray. But how will her pack respond?this is what years of werewolf research looks like...one of the few fics I'm taking seriously





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _nyo england is now Chelsea, not Alice. Sorry for the confusion but the whole Alicia/Alice similarities are driving me nuts_

The soft chirping coming from the crickets hidden in plain sight softly set a serene background noise in the lazy forest. Their chirps rose into a crescendo as the sun crept up on the horizon. The calls from the newly awakened birds caused a ruckus in the trees. Squirrels, rabbits, foxes–all of them awoke and began to roam. Only a select few creatures refused to wake peacefully. 

Amelia Jones groaned softly and rolled away from the sun on the ground. She wearily opened her eyes and saw her home–a simple cottage–a few yards away. Then she looked down at herself and cringed. She was naked and bruised on all of her joints and her lower back. Well three nights in a row of winding up outside meant she could catch a break.

She got up with a few sickening cracks and limped to the front door, not caring who saw her. She entered and glanced around. The front room that led to the kitchen and the washroom looked like a potion shop. There was a round wooden table in the center with four chairs and an assortment of bottles and jars lining the walls. The cauldron on the hearth in the back was full of a boiling brew that smelled of lavender. Amelia had no doubt that it was a soothing potion meant for her.

“Ah there you are!” A slight woman with long blonde pigtails and glasses said as she stepped out of the washroom with a large towel.

“He–Hey Chelsea!” Amelia yawned, “Sup bruh?” Anyone could tell she was a wreck, but Chelsea seemed to know it was particularly bad that day. 

“Rough evening?” Chelsea hummed without much of a greeting, “Well I have your bath set up and your clothes ready for you.”

“Thanks Fam.” Amelia said with a weak smile, “Is Kenzie still with Francis?” Chelsea shuddered and nodded before leading Amelia to the washroom. Inside there was a full wooden tub of water with a blend of lavender, chamomile, marigold, and rosemary oils. There was a chair next to it with a set of clothes on the back. The walls were light green with random pentacles and triskeligs painted in red, orange, and turquoise. It was a healing chamber.

“I swear I don’t understand why she keeps visiting him!” Chelsea groaned as she helped Amelia into the water, “Francis is the one who bit you and almost bit Madeline!”

“It wasn’t like that!” Amelia sighed as she soaked–nothing was quite as amazing as the potion Chelsea made for her. She hummed and closed her eyes. Chelsea sat down by her and remained straight as a board.

“So, uh, what happened last night? Did I roam far? I can’t remember anything!” Amelia asked without looking at her caretaker. 

“They attacked…you held them off until first light. Francis had to protect Kenzie.” Chelsea grimaced, “I can’t believe they found us out here! I have to heal all those poor pups they used!” Amelia’s eyes shot open and she lurched forward. She could never forget about  _ them _ .

“You don’t mean—“

“The Benandanti. I do.”

 

* * *

Chiara groaned and rolled out of bed. She needed water and some kind of food after the night she had. Why did an out-of-body experience leave her so sore? The wolf under her control got hit on the right side, but she could feel it on her own body.

She pulled on her green dressing gown and approached her vanity to adjust her hair. While she was not a princess, the room in the mirror suggested that she most certainly was. Her king-sized bed was lavish with four oak posters and a burgundy satin curtain. The set that mostly hid the glass doors to her balcony matched and stood out against the beige walls. The nightstands beside her bed were identical with candles in the center. The one closest to her door had a figurine of Saint Lucia holding a plate with eyes on it in one hand and a palm branch across her chest in the other.

Chiara brushed her wavy hair into place, aside from her stray curl. She left the room with a little kiss to the cross on the wall by the door. She entered into a cream-colored hallway with elegant arches and cross beams, and several doors. It was silent except for the padding of her slippers against the tile floor. The rest of her pack might still be sleeping, which was unusual. But the roar of laughter coming from the floor below rang in her ears the second she set foot on the wide staircase.

“I had no idea how strong a witch’s pet wolf could be!” one voice rose above the rest, Alicia’s. Of course it was her little sister talking so loudly. The reply came from one of the few members of the pack without the gift, Carmen.

“Are you sure you should be calling a person a pet?” she asked nervously. Alicia outranked her and could oust her for disobedience. 

“What else could the wolf be?!” another loud person laughed, it had to be Antonio, “You really think a person would willingly stick around with a witch like that!?” Chiara had a few things to add, and as she turned the corner into the dining room she made her opinion clear–second in command had its perks.

“In love, idiot.” she scoffed, causing six heads to turn toward her. Alicia, Antonio, Carmen, Célia, and Afonso were at attention. Little Bianca, the baby of the family spoke up:

“Love? Like a spell cast on them?”

“No, like the love Nonno has for Nonna, or Feliciano has for that potato.” Chiara scoffed, “The male wolf was protecting the witch in his house. He invited her over for the night to get us off her trail.”

“You say that,” Afonso hummed and pulled his flowing hair back, “but how could evil find love? And what about the she-wolf?”

“You don’t mean to tell me that a woman cannot love a woman, right? Considering you marked an angry-looking merchant—another man.” Chiara snarled. That scared everyone into silence. 

“That’s what I thought.” she hummed as Afonso deflated. She stared everyone down and took her seat. Romulus wasn’t there, sick from the night before. Everyone followed her lead as she began the morning prayers. Food, water, and rest could wait for a while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun researching different werewolf myths
> 
> The Benendanti were a race of werewolves assigned the task of preventing evil werewolves from harming people. The evil wolves, the Malandanti, were followers of the devil with the ability to shape-shift. Benendanti were blessed by God. They could not physically transform into wolces, but their spirits could take over real wolves' bodies. This myth comes from Northern Italy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intoducing Chiara’s problems!

“Chiara!” Alicia called as she ran to her sister in the manor gardens. Chiara looked up from her book and scowled. Antonio was a ways behind her as well and she was just not in the mood to talk to him. She wasn’t in the mood to talk. Could she just enjoy her book in peace? Just one novel to take her from the looming doom over her head!

“Ciao Alicia. What is it? I’m trying to read.” Chiara huffed and hunched over out of exasperation and to hide her book. Alicia beamed and bounced in place, too excited for her older sister’s mood to bring her down.

“Sorry! Sorry! I thought you would wanna know that Lorenzo is coming back with Nonna! For good! Next week!” Alicia squealed, “It’s been years since we’ve seen him—as a human! Aren’t you excited?!”

“The brat’s coming back? Hopefully he found a nice girl, eh. You know how Nonno gets.” Chiara sighed, clearly unamused–it’s not as if she used her gift to contact her twin and beg him to come home. Plus it was only supposed to be two days. Alicia frowned and crossed her arms.

“Don’t you even care that the next pack leader won’t be you?! You’re dropping down to fourth place!”

“Good. I don’t wanna have all this authority. Now piss off.” Chiara hissed. Alicia stormed off, annoyed that she was bound to obey or go completely rogue. Chiara had no sympathy for her. She sat up and began to read again, trying to get lost in a world built on parchment with ink. Only to be interrupted once more–this time with a flower getting pushed onto the pages.

“Hola bonita.” Antonio hummed. Chiara glared up at him. He had a charming smile and bright green eyes. His dark wavy hair was highlighted by the sun, creating a golden halo around him. He was the picture of innocence—until nightfall.

“Antonio.” she said curtly as she pushed the flower away and continued reading. He pouted but bounced back quickly. He had to be patient with his love. She needed time to understand her own feelings–he was sure that he had marked her as his soulmate, so naturally she had to return the feelings. That’s how it worked!

“It’s sure is a beautiful day, almost as beautiful as you! Certainly the kind of weather to enjoy Nature and read. What are you reading, mi vida? Is it historic or romantic or something like that?” he rambled.

“No.” she said bluntly.

“Adventure perhaps?” he asked as he sat next to her. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Oh! Those are my favorite ones! If you don’t mind me saying, I know a good book you might like, mi corazón!” Antonio chuckled and leaned back against the bench. Chiara shot him a death glare that he didn’t see. Sure he was a good friend, but if he used one more pet name for her she might have snapped at him.

“It’s called _Le Morte D’Arthur_ and it’s so good!” Antonio went on.

“I know, I’m rereading it now. I want to finish it in peace.” Chiara snarled. Antonio wilted and stood up.

“Well if you want to talk about it you can always come to me, or Carmen.” he said in parting. She sighed softly as he let her be. She gave up on her story seeing as it wasn’t working. She thought of only one thing….

 

The fight the night before was brutal. Afonso, Antonio, Chiara, and Célia were under Romulus’ orders and were set to eradicate the evil witch scum residing in the cottage. After months of stakeouts they were ready. He sent Alicia and Bianca to handle the problem further in the woods–the cursed Frenchman and his Scottish temptress. Romulus was always so careful and prepared for anything. He was thrown for a loop by that she-wolf. She was strong enough and fast enough to ward off five coordinated Wolves of God.

Chiara remembered the frenzy so clearly it scared her. Antonio and Afonso flanked the werewolf while Célia was waiting in the shadows behind the beast. Chiara and Romulus attacked her head on. They all sprung at her simultaneously when Romulus gave the signal. Snarling and snapping around the beast wouldn’t be enough to make her go away—the witch had a big, hairy bodyguard! Chiara had never seen a werewolf capable of flinging two full-grown wolves a good sixty meters with three others nipping at her heels. Célia and Afonso had some trouble getting back into action, but they were relentless, despite being repeatedly thrown around. Chiara was the third victim of the rag-doll treatment. She recovered quickly. The next thing Chiara knew, that she-wolf reared her arm up to strike the pup to her left–Antonio. Romulus was behind her, grabbing her tail to distract her, and didn’t see the present danger to his strongest fighter. His best fighter could not let Antonio get maimed by poisonous claws.

Chiara leapt in front of Antonio like a fool and knocked him aside. She squeezed her eyes shut and awaited the mark of a painful death. The claws came down at full force and Chiara felt a heavy object crash into her and it sent her skidding in the dirt. The horrible yelp she heard made her blood run cold. Romulus was bleeding profusely and angrier than ever before. He went ballistic, jumping on the she-wolf and scratching at her face. His teeth were bared and he kept biting her arms when she tried to shove him away. Chiara could only see the blood oozing from her grandfather–it was sickly green, certain death. She couldn’t stay–she released her wolf so it could flee and found one in the area that Lorenzo, her twin, was in to inform him, and in effect their grandmother, of the terrible news–their grandfather would be dead in three weeks at most. His fire could extinguish at any time.

 

The warm sun overhead was of little comfort to her, much like her book. Chiara rose and made her way inside. She had to see her Nonno.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst

Nonno Romulus’ room was at the end of the hall. Its large double doors stood proudly between the master’s chambers and the hallway. With her nose in the air and a flowing grace in her step, Chiara ignored the sensation of the walls closing in on her. She had to remain calm–if anyone knew her distress it could lead to the pack unraveling.

She took a strained breath and knocked loudly on the door. There was no reply, but she could hear three male voices whispering about Lorenzo’s disappearance with Nonna and the overwhelming reality that one of them was dying. The one with the highest pitch stopped abruptly. They paid her no mind. They dared withhold the decency to tell her it was a bad time?–to acknowledge her existence!?

“Open this door!” she shouted and slammed her fist against the wood. There was frantic shuffling on the other side as she fumed. The door creaked open to reveal an apprehensive Feliciano. She was not welcome yet, but orders are orders and the old alpha did not overrule them.

“Chiara! Is there something you need? Marcello and I were just about to finish our conversation with Nonno.” Feliciano smiled awkwardly.

“I came to check on Nonno, but now I’m curious about your conversation.” she hummed and examined her nails nonchalantly.

“Is that my little bella?!” Romulus called weakly but with glee, “Let her in! Let her in! I want her to hear the good news!”

At that Feliciano sighed and defeatedly let her into the room. Marcello was kneeling by the bed where Romulus lay, propped up by pillows. He was ghastly pale and there were patches of blackened rot on his skin.

“Chiara, come here! Did Marcello tell you?—he’s going off to undergo holy orders when the season changes!” Romulus cooed. Chiara shot a disbelieving glance at the sheepish redhead. He was clearly lying–he was without the gift and had to find some way to make Romulus proud of him for having some piety.

“How lovely. Is that all you were discussing?” she smiled sweetly, internally screeching at their blatant dishonesty. Feliciano shut the door and scurried to an open corner in the room to hide.

“Feliciano just asked me for my blessing! He wants to propose to Julia!” Romulus squealed. Behind the joy, Chiara could hear a hint of ruefulness in his voice. This was certainly good news, and Chiara approved.

“Congratulations, Feliciano.” she hummed sincerely and glanced around the dim room, “If you two could leave now—I have a few matters to discuss with Nonno about the Hunt.” That wasn’t exactly a lie, but she certainly needed a way to get rid of her brothers, since they were hindering the inevitable discussion. Marcello got up and left without further prompting–he had no business hearing any of this again! Feliciano was more reluctant. He loitered in the doorway, hoping that it would suffice in terms of obeying orders.

“The next time you join us, you may hear these reports–until then, leave.” Chiara hissed. He pouted and shut the door as he left.

“Always so harsh with your little brothers!” Romulus laughed. Chiara crossed her arms and moved to the foot of the bed. Her furrowed brow and scowl were the perfect signs for the old man to stop pretending. He let his smile fall and groaned in agony. Chiara could relax her face.

“Why did you do it?” she asked with glassy eyes.

“What on earth do you mean—?”

“You know what I mean!” she snapped, “This pack needs you! I need you! If you didn’t push me out of the fucking way, you wouldn’t be like this!” Her tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

“Chiara if you think I’m not gonna protect my eldest granddaughter at all costs, you don’t know your Nonno.”

“I know how the pack functions—I’m expendable! It should be me sitting in bed rotting from the inside out! How am I supposed to tell everyone that you’re dying? How can I tell them it’s my fault!? How am I supposed to explain how Lorenzo and Nonna knew to come home so quickly?—I’ve known where they are this whole time! How are we supposed to go on without you!?” she shouted and grabbed the footboard for support. Her knees shook violently as she threw away the last of her dignity and sobbed.

“Bambina,” Romulus sighed and sat up slightly, “Come here.” he motioned her over. Though she didn’t want to get close enough for him to count the droplets carving down her face, she was bound to obey. She knelt by his bed and hugged herself tightly, hoping to calm down. She got the surprise of her life when Romulus suddenly leaned over and pulled her to his chest.

“This is not your fault, Chiara. I would do anything to protect the people dearest to me. I love you bambina. You know more about love than anybody else here, you know it will make you do crazy things.” he cooed and stroked her hair, “I was crazy enough to let them go, I was crazy enough to give them that freedom, and I was crazy enough to get mauled to protect you. Then again…” he took a moment to catch his breath. Chiara pulled away and eased him back onto his pillows, stained dark green from his ailment. For a dying man in pain, Romulus sure acted like he only had a cold.

“Then again, you saved Antonio for the same reason!” he laughed, wheezing with each breath.

“I don’t love him, Nonno.” Chiara pouted, “He thinks he marked me when we first met, but that was because he thought getting a flower pot dropped on his head elicited the same feelings.”

“No, no, you love him, the way I love you—he was what, twelve? Who dropped that pot anyway?”

“That was Feliciano.” Chiara giggled and wiped her eyes with her sleeve, “Clumsy bastard!” Romulus chuckled and coughed. He needed to rest again, but he had some business to discuss still.

“Your nonna is returning with Lorenzo. He will be next in line after her.” Romulus grunted. Chiara nodded in understanding–he was a minute older than her.

“Make arrangements to celebrate their return. There should be some joy for them to cushion the blow. Augusta will want revenge if she feels too much anger.”

“Yes, Nonno.” she said and stood, “Rest well. Bianca will bring you your dinner.” He smiled at her as she left, not knowing that she took after Nonna Augusta in far too many ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lorenzo=Romano
> 
> Eventually things will lighten up…


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiara is a spy. Amelia is wracked with guilt. Look Francis!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _nyo england is now Chelsea, not Alice. Sorry for the confusion but the whole Alicia/Alice similarities are driving me nuts_

It was a calm evening in the manor gardens. The coming sunset painted the flowers and shrubbery in a golden light. The few birds that fluttered about in the evening chirped and sang for the young woman pacing by a simple fountain. The trickling of the water could set her at ease usually, but this evening Chiara found no peace. Especially when Antonio approached her with a bright smile.

“Hola Chiara.” he said, causing her to pause and look at him. He approached her and gave her a quick hug, which she returned.

“Ciao Tonio. You’re wondering why I asked you to meet me out here, no?” she hummed.

“I am curious as to what it is you need of me, miss.” he admitted with a bow. She rolled her eyes at the try hard. She needed his help, he would follow her to the ends of the earth and back, and he wouldn’t tell a soul about her plan, even without orders. She had to do this.

“Tonight I am going to find that Malandanti that hurt Nonno. I will find her human form. I just don’t wanna go alone.”

“Are you crazy?! Chiara, bonita, that’s too dangerous! Even if I go with you, we could still get hurt!” Antonio gawked at her. Chiara rolled her eyes.

“The full moon passed and if we’re careful we don’t have to worry, but if you’re not coming with me then you can’t tell anyone.” she pouted. It was Antonio’s weakness. He could hardly resist anything remotely cute. He winced as his morale crumbled.

“Of course I’m coming!” he huffed bitterly. He hated to admit defeat.

“Thank you. After dinner we run.” Chiara said with a sly smile.

* * *

 

Amelia leaned against the cottage wall and kept her gaze on the heavens. It was a clear evening and the stars that twinkled overhead were the only solace she had in the blanket of night. She dared not look down, her body was her enemy and she often wondered if it were really the wolf that was abnormal.

“Amy, what are you doing out here!?” a woman called approaching the cottage. Amelia looked out to the forest and saw two people–a woman with fire-red hair and a man with flowing blonde hair holding a lantern.

“Heya Kenzie! Francis! Took your sweet time, huh?” Amelia smirked teasingly. Instead of answering her, Kenzie turned her attention to Francis and mumbled something too quietly for Amelia to hear. Francis seemed to nod to her and they continued toward the house.

“Evening. If you don’t mind I have to bother Chelsea.” Kenzie said with a hint of irritation as she passed. Francis smiled softly as she went inside and found a place next to Amelia.

“Did you have trouble last night?” he asked as he set the lantern down. She snorted and shook her head.

“I don’t remember much of what happened. I can’t call it trouble if I don’t know.”

“Hmm, I would call that trouble, Mia.” Francis mused, “They found us. Two ruthless wolves found us and they almost took me from my darling.”

“You gotta step up your game, dude. I had five. That I remember.” she laughed bitterly and sank to the ground. Francis crouched beside her, careful of the lantern, and studied her face in the soft orange light. A few scratches on her cheek and over her eye added years to her countenance. The dark circles under her eyes could have been bruises they were so prominent. Her brilliant baby blue eyes lacked their usual luster and it seemed as though her mind was miles away.

“Francis, are we really damned? Like no matter what we do, we can never be good people.”

“That, my little rougalou, is not an easy question for an atheist. But I would like to think that your God wouldn’t toss you out because of some bad luck. If you’re a decent person, why bar you from paradise?”

“Then why am I cursed in the first place?” she shouted and turned her head to face him. Her eyes were glassy and a stray tear rolled down her cheek. Francis wiped it away with the pad of his thumb and smiled softly at her.

“I don’t think it’s a curse to be able to protect the ones we care about. As long as Chelsea and Kenzie are accused of heresy, I can’t call the wolf anything other than a gift. But I don’t think that’s what’s on your mind.”

“I–I scratched one of them.” she whispered and held up her right hand–her fingers were bruised and her nails were all jagged and broken. Francis gently took her hand and examined it.

“That person is doomed. I’m a murderer.” she added, “Maybe they should eradicate us…”

“Let them kill us all off? Who will protect the healers? Chelsea and Kenzie—and all the witches too? Who will tend to the sick and injured?” Francis asked and pushed her hair behind her ear.

“But I still killed them.” Amelia sighed and shrugged him off.

“How many more have they killed?” Francis questioned with an edge to his voice, “If they can murder and still be considered holy, it should not mean you are any less of a person. It’s war, Mia.”

“Thanks Francis. If it’s cool with you, I wanna be alone for a while.” she said as she wiped her eyes. His advice was usually so helpful, but not that night. He got up and nodded before going inside. Once she was alone she leaned back and shut her eyes, listening to the faint rustle of the forest around her.

Two wolves appeared in the thicket on a mission. They crept as close to the building as possible and saw Amelia. Chiara sniffed the air and growled under her breath. Antonio nudged her with his shoulder and shot her a reprimanding look down his snout. She snorted and him and inched closer. She was trying to think of a way to kill the Malandanti before the next full moon when she was sure she’d found her.

Chiara could see that the woman was pretty–pretty beat up. The scratches on her face were so obvious that at a distance a blind person could see them. She was beaten and bruised and there were probably more signs of that under her pants and tunic. She was young and looked lively. Chiara was willing to bet her left leg that this was the moon-wolf–she had a brilliant idea to get close to this woman!

Antonio whined when he crept up next to her. She shot him a glare to silence him. But the look in his eyes told her he was ready to go. She had no further business there, so she snapped her jaw and left her wolf’s body. He followed suit unaware of her thoughts. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trans character?! Yup! Amelia makes a friend.

Dawn arrived and passed for the sun to shine brightly on Amelia as she slumbered. She winced and rolled away from the light, but it was too late. She was regrettably awake.

She rolled out of bed and shook out her hair. She walked literally three steps to the trunk holding all her clothes and pulled out a fresh tunic, coat, and pants–it was market day and going out in the rags from yesterday was just uncouth.

Once dressed she ran downstairs to find Kenzie had prepared her breakfast already–a large spread of assorted jams, bread, eggs, pudding, and baked beans. Chelsea was busy scanning the back wall to make a list–food and potion ingredients. She was the florist’s best customer!

“Amy, good morning.” she said without turning around. Amelia sat down and smiled.

“Mornin’ Chelsea! Long list?” Amelia asked as she dug in. Chelsea laughed harshly in reply. That’s all the answer either really needed. Of course it was a long list!

“With the way you eat, are you surprised?” Chelsea laughed and turned to flash Amelia a playful smirk. Amelia shrugged and made a show of scarfing down her meal.

“After you put your wolf away, Kenzie wants your help repairing the chimney. Then we can go to the market. Francis requested fish so he can prepare it for dinner.”

She finished her meal quickly and scurried outside. Sure enough, when she rounded the building, Kenzie was already on the ladder, pulling dried leaves and pine needles from the lowest vent. She had a cigarette between her lips and couldn’t give a damn about what anyone thought of it. There was a brown kitten perched on her shoulder, watching Amelia approach.

“Morning, Wood!” Amelia shouted up at her. Kenzie scoffed and rolled her eyes. That pup wouldn’t trick her again! She had rid herself of that nuisance years ago!—wait Woody was purring–she was talking to the cat! Dammit!

“Amy, shut it. I cannae work and play your games!” Kenzie scoffed.

“Chelsea said you needed me. What do I have to do?” Amelia said. She was determined to help out as much as she could. Kenzie just laughed. It was a boisterous, joyful sound that woke the forest.

“Too late now! I needed a stable ladder and as you can see it i’nt moving!” she chuckled, calming down.

Amelia pouted. It was time to go to the market.

* * *

 

 

Off-yellow plaster walls rose and cut the sides of the cobblestone streets. On the wide seaside promenade merchant tents crowded the street and average people shuffled between the stalls under a clear sky. From the fruit stands closest to the mainland, to the dockside fish salespeople, and all the assorted wares in between, there were items to suit everyone’s needs. In the center there was a notice board that always caught every eye. That’s where Chiara had Célia and Carmen put a flyer for a celebratory fair at Vargas Manor.

“Car, get a look at those two!” Célia hummed and pointed to a duo nearing their favorite cod fish merchant. Carmen idly lifted her head away from the tuna she was examining and nearly fainted. A petite woman with long twintails was guiding another person with a pile of baskets in their arms that extended well over their head.

“It’s amazing what a common woman is capable of!” Célia mused, referring to the person holding the baskets. Carmen was more so stunned by the tiny blonde who walked with a purpose and an air of command. What was this fluttering feeling in her chest? She couldn’t stop staring.

“Carmen…” Célia pouted and nudged her, “Irmã…” Carmen was too distracted to notice. She was bewitched by this person. Célia smirked, knowing full well what was happening. She could have fun with this!

“Is that Augusta carrying Lorenzo on her shoulders!?” she gasped and pointed into the crowd. Carmen paid her no mind. Not good considering finding Lorenzo was one of their main objectives! The other was buying food for dinner–and haggling down the price. She needed her sister’s soft feminine charm for some of these people!

“I’m pregnant with Chao’s child.” she lied. Carmen slowly turned to her and let her jaw drop. Célia lifted her hand with two crossed fingers and smiled wickedly.

“Oops! I lied!” she cooed, “It’s as if you marked that girl! But you know you can’t do that! Get your head out of the clouds–she’s not in your league!” Célia was right, of course. Carmen pouted and spared the out-of-reach duo one final glance and smiled wistfully. It had to be the first sign of love.

 

  
“Amy, Love, should we get one cod or two?” Chelsea asked as she studied the display. Amelia, hidden behind assorted herbs and foodstuffs, laughed and shook her head.

“Dude, Francis is cooking! Get three! I’m a hungry puppy!” she snorted. Chelsea sighed–three was a bit much and out of her budget. But after all Amelia went through for her in the past two weeks, she was compelled to give her that one treat. She didn’t really need to purchase any more roses for a while.

“These three please.” Chelsea said to the merchant. As the merchant gathered and wrapped the fish, Amelia wandered a bit, but not far. She was able to navigate the crowd without her separate set of eyes. Being a werewolf had some advantages. She could hear and smell everything and managed to gracefully weave through the crowd. At least for about thirty steps. Then she bumped into a young man and the onions on top of her pile tumbled gracelessly to the ground.

“Oof! Ah, scusi.” he said as he helped balance the leaning tower of dinner in her hands. He had an _odd_ scent–it was foreign to the area. He had a thick accent and a rich tone in his voice and he sounded like some of the locals. Strange.

“Hey, no, it’s my bad. Sorry about that!” she winced. Chelsea was gonna kill her if she got too far! The man chuckled and picked up the roots before they could be trampled and placed them back on the pile. 

“Not to worry, bella. If you feel the need to make it up to me, I wouldn’t mind having you accompany me to the fair tomorrow.” he hummed. Amelia’s eyebrows rose. The man was talking to a stack of baskets and bags and he had the gaul to ask her, a complete stranger hidden by the aforementioned items, to the fair with no pretense!?

“Like a date? Dude! I don’t even know your name! Hell, you don’t even know what I look like!” she panicked, only to elicit another short burst of laughter from him.

“I never said it would be a date! Unless you want it to be, of course.” he purred and snickered again, “I’m kidding–but seriously, I just got into town, and I’m looking to expand my social circle and you sound familiar. Plus, my family’s gonna drive me crazy if I don’t have any plans.”

“Well it’s a public place and in broad daylight, so yeah, I’m game. Is this how you meet all your friends, erm—?” Amelia chuckled.

“I’m Lorenzo, but you can call me Renzo.”

“I’m—“

“AMELIA!” Chelsea’s shrill, enraged voice cut her off. Amelia peeked over her shoulder at the tiny, irate woman nearing. Oh dear. She was in trouble! It didn’t help that Lorenzo was snickering at this tiny woman.

“Looks like your mama’s pissed.” he jeered, “Let’s meet up at the front gate around noon, eh?” Amelia pouted–Chelsea was so not her mom! At least Renzo was amused.

“Sounds good!” Amelia said quickly, “See ya then!”  
And with that she scurried toward Chelsea.

“You can’t see! Bloody hell, what if you ran into someone!?” Chelsea huffed when Amelia caught up to her. Amelia winced. Oops!

“Funny story–I did. And I’m gonna meet up with him at the fair at Vargas Manor tomorrow.” Amy said, dancing around her words carefully. She was lucky she couldn’t see Chelsea’s face—the furrowed brow and disbelieving scowl could turn anyone to stone.

“Vargas? Absolutely not! One whiff of you and we’re all dead! You know they’re Benandanti!” she hissed so that only a trained ear could catch it. Amelia wrinkled her nose and scoffed. Chelsea was paranoid!

“I’m keeping my word, Cheals. Let’s see what the others have to say!” Amelia stated firmly. She could handle it.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“What do you mean you can’t set up a few tents and games before tomorrow?!” Chiara snarled at a gentle-looking man with brown hair. He was nodding off where he stood and was unaffected by the alpha wolf sneering at him between the stucco pillars.

“I don’t have enough hands to finish by then. After getting everything here it would take me all day.” he droned. Chiara crossed her arms and growled to herself–he had a good point. If he had started sooner as promised, however, there would be no reason to have this conversation.

“I will send a few people to help you. Next time you will do well to start on time, Heracles.” she huffed, “Now get to work.” Heracles nodded and wandered off around the manor to the garden. Chiara ran a hand through her hair and went back inside.

The atrium was wide and the walls were lined with gorgeous paintings. Chiara eyed the stairway against the right wall and pouted. She had too much to do and then she had to worry about Romulus on top of that. Her thoughts were all over the place.

“Afonso! Antonio! Alicia! Marcello!” she shouted up the stairs, “Go assist the idiot in the garden!” Three sets of feet pounded overhead. Soon Marcello and Alicia appeared on the stairwell and they took two steps at a time. Afonso followed close behind, bored out of his mind.

“Where’s Antonio?” Chiara questioned them irately. Alicia shrugged, clueless, and skipped off to aid Heracles. Marcello had a little more respect.

“Sorry, Chia, I haven’t seen him since this morning. I’ll tell him to see you if I see him!” the redhead smiled shyly and hurried after his sister. Chiara shot Afonso a challenging glare. He was too quiet.

“He’s searching for Lorenzo.” Afonso sighed and tied up his hair. Chiara dragged a hand down her face and groaned. Lorenzo was missing again?! This was becoming a daily issue! Unlike Augusta, who was by Romulus’ side constantly, Lorenzo couldn’t seem to bear the grief that this house draped over him. Unfortunately, he was next on Chiara’s list of people she needed. Fortunately, Antonio was looking for him, and the best person to reel him back.

“I think he’s in the kitchen with Bianca. Anything else?” Afonso lazily crossed his arms. Chiara let her shoulders drop and she let her utter exhaustion show.  

“How is he?” Chiara inquired with a far more gentle tone. She had no need to specify who “he” was. The man before her understood and placed a warm hand on her shoulder.

“For better or worse he’s still alive.” he reported, then added, “No one blames you for this, nor should anyone. You shouldn’t either.” For a stoic, sarcastic, distant person, Afonso was, to Chiara’s surprise, often the most sympathetic and understanding one she knew. He was there to witness it all, he knew exactly what occurred, and he knew exactly what to say to cause Chiara’s eyes to water.

Before she could process her thoughts, she pulled him into a sudden hug and buried her face in his chest. She shivered as she tried to control her emotions and twisted her face to stop any potential flow. He did the only logical thing and returned the hug, calmly rubbing her back to comfort her.

“Bastard,” she whimpered, “stop trying to make me feel better.”

“Is that an order?” he asked, pausing his ministration. She shook her head, nuzzling into him even more. He chuckled and began to sing softly–an old Portuguese lullaby his mother would sing to him. This girl was working herself to death trying to organize a fair and a funeral while fighting her guilt. He couldn’t just watch her suffer without trying to soothe her.

Of course, no good deed goes unpunished. Antonio came into the atrium from the dining room with a bright smile, until he saw the pair having their moment by the stairs. He scowled and cleared his throat. Afonso kept singing and spotted his brother glaring at them. He glared back with just as much venom. It was not the time to be a jealous brat.

“Is there a problem, Toninho?” he asked and carefully separated from Chiara. She crossed her arms and eyed the man with a scowl.

“Fons, please go help set up. Antonio, come here.” she ordered. Afonso left without another word while Antonio approached her. She was beyond annoyed and it scared him. He did not mean to upset her but his emotions were not under his control.

“Where is Lorenzo?” she questioned, ignoring the obvious jealousy radiating from him and the moisture tainting her cheeks. His was fading away as she spoke and was replaced by embarrassment. He adjusted his jacket sleeves and pouted.

“I don’t know. All I can say is that he isn’t on the grounds.” he answered honestly. He smiled meekly at her, hoping that the angry beauty would be merciful. She wasn’t.

“I expect you to understand that I am not yours nor am I bonded to your brother–he has his mate.” she hissed and drummed her fingers on her arm.

“But I marked you when we first met. I can’t stop myself from feeling drawn to and protective of you!” he wilted and stared at her longingly. He was so certain that he was in love with every aspect of her–that adorable pout, that cascading mahogany curtain of hair that draped over her shoulders, her voice as sweet as honey and her tongue as sharp as the stinger of a bee. Her raw passion and deep thoughts, her balanced skills in battle, her leadership capabilities—all of these things caused his heart to flutter. It had to be true love!

“I don’t need your protection. When it comes to this pack, contain yourself. In-fighting is a curse and frankly—“ she ordered but was cut off by the front doors slamming open.

“¡Hola!” Carmen called with a medium-sized basket in her hands. The two people behind her, Célia and Lorenzo, had their hands full with other baskets. So he went to the market with them!

“Ciao!” Chiara smiled the second she saw her twin, “Antonio, help your cousins. Lorenzo and I need to talk. Alone.” Antonio happily skipped to Lorenzo and took his baskets when he came through the doorway. Lorenzo handed them over bitterly and slunk past Antonio to have some kind of debate (which usually happened when they spoke) with his sister.

“What is it?” he huffed and pouted a familiar pout. Antonio hurriedly ushered Carmen and Célia from the room–it could get ugly.

“You need to help me plan this goddamn funeral. Why the fuck are you running off so much?”

“Last time I checked, he’s not dead. Why bother?” Lorenzo argued and crossed his arms. Chiara got in his face and raised her voice.

“Last time you checked? When was that again? Ten days ago? He won’t get better and you damn well know it! It’s your duty to see this through!” she snarled and jabbed him in the chest with her finger

“If it’s my job, why the fuck are you doing it?” he hissed, “Why are you so obsessed with giving him the perfect send-off? You aren’t killing him!” He did not at all expect her to let her arms drop at her sides and turn away with glassy eyes.

“Chia?” he said with a far more gentle tone and reached out to her. She bolted up the stairs when his fingers brushed her shoulder. He ran after her, calling to her. He never got the full story behind Nonno’s inevitable end, he was clearly missing something that Chiara was not telling him, no one was telling him. She ran into her room and slammed the door shut. She locked it and slid to the floor as Lorenzo crashed into it and slammed the side of his fist on it in defeat.

“Chia,” he sighed and slid to the ground, “I’m sorry. I crossed a line. Please tell me where that line is.”

“It’s all my fault.” she whimpered and tilted her head back as her eyes welled, “If he didn’t push me out of the way, he would be alright! I had to save Antonio, but Nonno shouldn’t’ve done the same! No matter how many times however many people say it’s not I can’t even begin to believe them!”

“It’s your fault alright.” Lorenzo chuckled, “Try blaming yourself for keeping that paella-brain alive. Nonno wouldn’t have saved Antonio, not that he dislikes the bastard, but casualties happen. If anyone should feel guilty it should be Antonio. But he isn’t beating himself up.”

“The idiot probably didn’t make the connection.” Chiara scoffed bitterly.

“Yeah, because he would never bother to dwell on the fact his soulmate risked her life for him or what followed.” Lorenzo countered. Chiara snorted shook her head.

“He’s not your soulmate, right?” Lorenzo added before she could retort, “Tell that to him! You know who’s really to blame.”

“I’ll kill her myself.” Chiara said, “I know that moon-wolf’s human form. Tomorrow will be her last day.” Icy venom spilled from her lips and scared Lorenzo. His eyes went wide and he leaned away from the door.

“Is that why you’re holding a fair? You don’t know if she’ll be there tomorrow and it’s so public–didn’t you think this through?” he asked incredulously. It was unlike her to miss such glaring issues.

“Apparently not.” She hissed through gritted teeth and slammed her head back against the door out of frustration. Lorenzo snickered and got to his feet.

“Vengeance clouds the mind, Chia. If you plan on scoping out the wolf in the crowd, stay away from me. I’m meeting up with a friend and she shouldn’t have to witness a murder.” he said. That caught her attention–knowing her brothers, any female friend was more like a date!

She laughed and got up. She opened the door to see Lorenzo pouting and highly unamused in the hallway. She leaned against the doorframe and smirked.

“You met a nice girl?” she hummed, “Tell me more!”

“Okay, first of all, you don’t care that much, it’s a distraction. Second of all, I mean it, she is just a friend. I marked someone at the university and this friend reminds me of her. And finally I am not telling you about the girl I marked.”

“Come on! At least give me your friend’s name!” she pouted. He was gone for so long and she wanted details about him! They were twins! They had their special connection!

“Amelia. Now wash your face before Nonna sees you!” he smirked and walked off with a spring in his step. Chiara watched and wondered about the poor girl who was destined to deal with Lorenzo for the rest of her life!

 

* * *

 

It always confused Amelia when Francis said grace. The atheist leading the mealtime prayer made no sense. Then again, two Christian witches made less sense. Kenzie always prayed at meals and before bed, and went to church every Sunday and Tuesday. Chelsea was not nearly so strict, but she was just as faithful. Amelia was the odd one out–she doubted, unable to say for certain that there was a God—at least a benevolent one. They were such an odd little family.

The prayer ended and everyone seated at the table began to fill their plates. The scent of perfectly braised cod, rice, and roasted artichokes filled the air and it created a sense of calm when combined with the orange glow of the candles in the center of the table.

“Father O’Malley says hello.” Kenzie said as she handed the rice bowl to Francis. He smiled softly at the redhead and nodded.

“Was there a service today?” Chelsea asked.

“No, no. An anointing of the sick. He anointed the lad, I tried to heal him. Such a shame.”

“You know,” Amelia said with a full mouth, “It’s kinda funny how a man dedicated to his religion seeks out the help of witches.”

“Is it?” Chelsea inquired, “We worship the same deity. Moreover, we ‘witches’ have the knowledge and skill to help people–with the items God created.” Amelia swallowed hard and relented. The edge to Chelsea’s voice was sharper than a wolf’s claws. Kenzie was plain insulted. Francis watched the tension brim at the table and decided he had to divert everyone’s attention.

“So I have some news.” He hummed and rested his stubbly chin on his hands with her elbows on the table. All eyes were on him.

“My cousin, Madeline is coming to stay with me just before the full moon rises–it’s a shame she’ll miss the fair. This is a semi-permanent arrangement.” Chelsea smiled at him and nodded approvingly before eating. Kenzie forced a smile, happy that Francis would have family by his side, but sad that their alone time would be cut short. Amelia lit up and slapped her palms against the table as she tried to chew her food at light speed. Francis chuckled at her. When she swallowed and took a deep breath, Francis prepared himself for a hyper rant.

“Maddie?! You mean the one who’s Matt’s age?! The one with the little brother who makes me look calm!? That Madeline!? Oh my god I am so hype! Do you know how long I’ve wanted to meet her?! Forever! What’s she like? Is she allergic to dogs? What’s she into? Details!!” Amelia rambled in one breath. She was bouncing in her seat.

“Well, Madeline is like Matthieu in many ways, quiet, a little shy, polite. But she has a sense of style and her wit is twice as sharp. Oh and she didn’t run off to marry a gem of a Ukrainian. As for her interests, she loves animals, she studied literature at the university, and she loves field hockey.” Francis mused and added, “She would have some trouble living with me if she were allergic to dogs, Mia.”

“Oh cool! It’s too bad she’s missing the fair! I woulda been able to drag two people around!” Amelia replied. Francis and Kenzie eyed her skeptically.

“I told you no.” Chelsea snarled, “Vargas Manor is no place for a werewolf like you!”

“Why not? They won’t know she’s a rougarou or a moon-wolf if she doesn’t change shape and it’s not a full moon. Besides, it’s out in the open.”

“Wait–She cannae change without a full moon!” Kenzie thought aloud.

“Oh no, she and I can.” Francis smirked, “Nine years ago, she failed to keep her Lenten promise for the seventh time. I did so too 13 years ago. I choose not to shift unless it’s the full moon. You didn’t find it odds we could remember everything?”

“No–we’re not terribly familiar with werewolves. And what’s your excuse for staying quiet?” Chelsea huffed and glared at Amelia. Amy gulped and sighed.

“I didn’t know. I broke the Lent thing by sneaking out and wandering into the woods at night. I said I wouldn’t scare my mom. I was bit by a werewolf, and the scream I let loose was so loud it got to Franny, who was like a kilometer away, but saved my life. She had to have heard me. Double cursed. And then a month later, she died because she saw me change.” she admitted ruefully.

“I had no idea…oh my, Amy, I’m so sorry!” Chelsea gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. Kenzie grunted and stood. Her plate was cleared and her stomach was twisting up as if she might get sick.

“You go to that fair tomorrow. You have fun with your friend.” Kenzie said before leaving.

“Who is this friend?” Francis asked, “I am curious.”

“His name is Lorenzo. He’s pretty chill.” Amelia said and tried to eat again. Francis smirked with a devious twinkle in his eye.

“I hope you two have fun.” Francis cooed, knowing things were about to get interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun researching different werewolf myths
> 
> The Loup garou/rougarou is a werewolf that can transform at will and is cursed due to breaking their lenten promise seven years in a row. Rougarou is used more often in Cajun communities in the southern United States.


	7. Chapter 7

Chiara stood in front of her vanity mirror and observed her dress in the dim light of her room. It was green and the flowing skirt brushed the ground. Its long sleeves hardly covered her shoulders but cascaded loosely past her wrists. She was pleased to see that she looked good and that her weapon of choice was well hidden. If anyone caught her with the push dagger then she would have failed her mission. It didn’t matter if the simple knife was the size of her hand; it was a threatening piece of metal and she would be in a crowd in broad daylight. She tousled her hair and left to begin her hunt.

She stepped outside through the front door into the day. Of the two stone paths before her, one led to the front gate, the other led to the pathway to the gardens and the wide carriage gate, where the villagers were to enter. She noticed a wave of locals excitedly babbling and scurrying to the festivities. She headed to the front gate instead, spotting a familiar curl.

“Lorenzo!” she called to the short man leaning against the stone arch outside the elegant iron bars. He turned his head toward her and smiled impishly.

“Chiara, I’m surprised you’re not in the back–you have your mission, right?” he jeered. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and scoffed,

“I’m not allowed to talk to my brother when I see him?”

“Not at all.” he teased, “Sorry to disappoint, Signorina Ricci.”

“It’s almost as if you were afraid of your friend seeing me, Signore Ricci. I don’t plan on stealing her from you or sweeping her off her feet.” she countered, “Am I embarrassing you?”

“Not nearly as much as the others.” Lorenzo laughed. Chiara lightly shoved him through the bars and chuckled.

“I’ll see you later. Have fun with your not-date!” Chiara said.

“Have fun enacting your revenge!” Lovino replied with a crooked smirk. Chiara waved him off and set out to stalk the festivities. Lorenzo watched her disappear past the shrubs and wondered what it would be like if she were born before him. She was a born leader and he was the nurturing one. Not that he had much time to dwell on his insane family.

“S‘cuse me! You Lorenzo?” a familiar voice came from behind him and he felt a tap on his shoulder. He recognized her scent immediately and turned to face her. He was stunned, hardly expecting a cute blonde with deep blue eyes, but he remained cool.

“Only if you’re Amelia.” he said with a smile. She beamed and nodded. He fought back a chuckle–it wasn’t too often he saw women wearing old tartan breeches and a puffy shirt. Then again, he could tell that there was something about Amelia that was even more unusual.

“Come on Mr. Fancy-threads!” she laughed, “The fun is this way!” He glanced down at his attire--a clean shirt, a green vest, brown boots, and plain brown pants--and wondered what she would call his usual attire. He couldn’t wonder for long however, because in a split second she grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the entrance.

The event that loomed ahead of them past the brick pathway was vibrant and energetic. The canvas tents dotting the lawn were filled with craft merchants and customers. The scent of fresh pastries filled the air. Musicians and street performers drew crowds and inspired awe. Odd games appeared between the tents and food stands. Amelia couldn’t help but bounce excitedly as they dove deeper into the fray.

“Where to first, bella?” Lorenzo asked with a chuckle. Amelia’s eyes kept darting around, taking in the sights. Where indeed! That’s when a fire-eater, surrounded by dozens of people, caught her eye.

“Ooh–let’s check that out!” she gasped. Before she could drag him around again, Lorenzo broke free from her grasp and took her hand. He calmly walked toward the grouping.

“I take it you don’t get out much.” Lorenzo mused while weaving around different people.

“I mean you’re not wrong, but not right either. I spend my time helping my family and the church so I know people. But fun stuff like this? Nah!” Amelia replied with a shrug.

“Religious family? A pain I know all too well.” Lorenzo chuckled. They reached the edge of the crowd and separated to get a closer look at the spectacle. By some random chance they wound up right next to each other. Not that either one noticed.

The fire-eater was a lanky, pale man with dark hair and a scar on his cheek. She knew him. He brought a thin, lit torch to his lips and blew on the flame. Immediately a jet of blue fire shot from the torch, alighting the curiosity of his audience. Amelia, while impressed, scrutinized every movement.

“I cannot believe the Vargas family would allow witchcraft!” some person behind he whispered. Amelia bit back a laugh and covered her mouth with her hand before she ruined the man’s career.

“They don’t,” Lorenzo responded and startled his guest, “It’s a parlor trick. Anyone could learn it.”

“That’s right!” the fire eater jumped in. He had a strong Welsh accent.

“It’s a risky trick. Riskier than singing on the street or juggling knives! I pray to see the end of each performance!” he continued. Amelia bit her lip and snickered, catching his attention.

“What?”

“Sorry Dylan, this is hilarious!” Amelia admitted sheepishly.

“Oh Amy! Well it is a trick, even you can do it!” he smirked. Amelia grinned, knowing that there was only one trick, the rest was indeed magic. She stepped forward and grabbed the torch with surprising confidence.

“It’s all about timing!” she laughed and stuck the wick in her mouth. She put out the flame with her tongue and kept her lips sealed for a minute while everyone watched, amazed. When she opened her mouth, smoke wafted toward the sky.

“That’s a spicy fire!” she laughed. Dylan took the torch and patted her back.

“Thanks for the save, puppy.” he whispered to her, “best go before they want you to breathe green flames!” Amelia giggled and nodded. She motioned for Lorenzo to follow her.

“What was that with dragon-breath back there?” Lorenzo asked as he walked with her toward a more open part of the grounds.

“Old family friend. Fun at parties.” Amelia shrugged. To hell if she dared admit that Dylan raised dragons, which was heresy in this land! Lorenzo smirked and raised his eyebrows.

“So you know what he considers his flock.” he said. She bobbed her head back and forth with her face twisted in mock-serious thought, but eventually nodded in defeat. He snorted and gently shoved her. She huffed and bumped him right back. He stumbled a bit, surprised by her strength, but then pouted when something else caught his attention.

“Why did she set up bocce courts if no one’s gonna play?” he mumbled to himself.

“Bocce? How many people do you need?” she asked as they approached the nearest court–a rectangular plot of fine dirt that was almost akin to sand surrounded by four logs. There were nine balls next to the 2x28m box–four green, four red, and one white.

“Two. You ever play?” he asked, sparing her a sideways glance. Confusion shrouded her features. He sighed and rolled his neck.

“The object is to get your balls as close to the white one. You wanna play a round?” he asked.

“Sounds easy enough. Let’s do it.” she replied with a smirk, “I hope you like losing!”

“Bold words coming from a novice!”

“Try me, pretty boy!”

“My beauty has nothing to do with it!” he jeered, “Watch and learn, Cucciola.” He picked up the white ball as he situated himself at one end, and then he tossed it into the court. It rolled and came to a halt closer to him than the other side. She waited, trying to understand the game.

“Pick a side and the four red balls so I can—”

“Why red?” she cut him off and frowned. He threw his head back and let out a harsh laugh.

“Because they go with your eyes.” he huffed sarcastically, “I just picked a color, there are no tricks. You want the green?”

“No I like red! So which side starts?” she said with a bright smile. He ran a hand down his face and stared at her in utter disbelief. This one was too much!

* * *

 

Chiara stalked the fair, feigning her usual social persona. Her eyes scanned every person while her lips curved into a charming, meek smile. She spared the odd compliment and friendly gesture to keep suspicion low. Her fingers would brush over the hilt of her dagger every so often, reminding her of her goal. While it was a guise to lure the werewolf to her, the fair was still a celebration of Lorenzo’s return–a lively one at that. It was certainly not easy to focus, but when her mind was set, Chiara was lethal.

* * *

“Where to next Renz?” Amelia asked after a brutal defeat. Lorenzo looked around and spotted just the place to go.

“Looks like they’re having a blast over there, care to dance?” he asked her. At least he wasn’t a sore winner! Amelia followed his gaze and grinned. She might make a fool of herself but it would be worth it!

“Race you there bro!” she cheered and ran toward the dance circle with Lorenzo on her tail.

* * *

 

Chiara paced around the grounds, taking another lap through and around the yard. She was losing faith in her scheme. What if Lorenzo was right, the she-wolf might not even be there!

She spotted the dance circle and trained her eyes on the crowd. Lorenzo was dancing with a young woman with long dark hair. He was clearly trying to woo her, for the sport of it, but this woman was not giving in. Chiara snickered to herself and let her gaze travel. She froze.

Her target was clapping at the edge of the crowd with a brilliant grin. Chiara balled her hands into tight fists–it couldn’t be! Her heart leapt into her throat and it went dry. Time’s flow slowed to a molasses drip.

The dancers bounced past the she-wolf, leaving a faint ghost in their wake. But she was moving at a realistic speed. Her hair bobbed and jumped as she tossed her head from side to side. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but Chiara swore that the sunlight moved to cast its rays directly onto her. Her dirty blonde hair shone like gold and it gleamed with its movements. Her smiling eyes were beautiful like topaz and her beautiful lips, curled into a grin, beckoned Chiara to come and kiss her.

Chiara’s head spun as the scene blurred while the she-wolf remained clear. Her knees shook while a warming chill crawled up her spine. Her chest tightened and sighed she struggled to breathe normally. But all she could focus on was this glowing beauty.

“Chia!” Carmen gasped and grabbed her wrist. Chiara leapt back with wide eyes. Carmen had concern etched over her face. Chiara winced and glanced at her arm. Her hand was coated in blood.

“C’mon! We have to get you cleaned up!” Carmen urged and pulled at her arm so Chiara would follow her inside.

They went straight into the kitchen where Carmen had her sit on the counter. She found a rag and dunked it in a bucket of water. Then she took Chiara’s arm and lifted it. The knife tumbled to the floor with a clatter, splattering red around it.

“What happened? Why were you carrying—no I already know you were hoping to find her—that’s the only obvious thing I can figure out!” Carmen rambled at top speed as she cleaned the wound. Chiara stared at her and with a voice far too timid to be hers, she whispered,

“I imprinted.”

 


End file.
